


I drove all night (to get to you)

by maybeillride



Series: Songfics [10]
Category: Free!
Genre: ...what Boundaries, Aged-Up Character(s), Anxiety, Boundaries, Friendship, Gift Fic, Home, M/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-05 16:49:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13392060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maybeillride/pseuds/maybeillride
Summary: I had to escape, the city was sticky and cruelMaybe I should have called you firstBut I was dying to get to you...





	I drove all night (to get to you)

**Author's Note:**

> This is for [creepingoat](http://www.creepingoat.tumblr.com) on Tumblr, for the Free! Otsukaresaba multishipping exchange. I was fortunate to be asked to fill in for their prompt "Mako/Haru personal space breached". Thank you dear!

The announcer sends Haru’s name booming around the cavern of the Olympic Swimming Center. Haru can’t stop himself from flinching, cringing a little bit _(Nanaseeee – HARUKAAAA!)._ Rin glances quickly over, his big grin faltering in concern.

Haru imagines every eye turned to him, thousands of them, dialed to him alone and slipping over him with hungry curiosity. Their cheers turn into something inhuman, too, when there’s so many of them, screaming for this “maestro of free” as all the announcers have started calling him. It’s started showing up on homemade banners waved by middle aged women. They even throw him dolphin plushies.

After so many qualifiers, another win should be old hat. That’s what Rin always tells him, anyway. It sure seems that way for his closest ally on Team Japan. Nothing bothers Rin in this crazy life they’re sharing now, and it’s a miracle, given all Rin had to go through to get here.

Maybe that’s why Rin’s taken to their competitive life like he was born to it. Maybe facing all his demons early – in Australia, and then through all the shit that happened in high school – maybe it cleared his way. Or maybe Rin is congenitally missing the ability to have a second thought. Haru can’t even imagine such a thing.

He forces himself to bow, staring at his flip-flops as the applause crests and slowly drains away. When he comes back up the moment of overwhelming attention has passed and he can breathe again.

The team files toward the locker room but Rin breaks the orderly line before they can get there, sidling close to Haru and getting an arm around his back. Haru is suddenly, pathetically grateful for his warmth. Rin is a fucking furnace.

Rin hustles them fast once they’re inside, bypassing the lockers and showers and heading towards the back hallway. Someone yells “20… 20!” as they pass and then one of the other guys picks it up, and it’s a full-blown chant by the time the door wheezes shut behind them.

Once they’re out it’s like Haru’s a marionette and someone cuts his strings in one snip. He slides down the cinderblock wall, _collapses_ down until he’s crouching in a little ball. It feels good, finally, to be safe, his back braced firm, his thighs relying on his calves and his calves using his feet, his feet on the ground. He nestles his head in the box of his crossed arms and breathes.

Rin’s arm hasn’t left his back, though he hasn’t said anything. They just hang there for a while. A few people hurry by in the hallway but don’t pay them any mind, their footsteps clacking as they pass. Behind them, muffled by the wall, the buzzer drones for the next final.

Haru rocks his head to the left, finally, to look at his friend. Rin tips his head over to meet his eyes, silent as the grave. He only raises his narrow eyebrows in anticipation. It’s Haru’s turn.

“I can’t stay for the party tonight.”

Rin’s eyebrows gently drop. Haru almost laughs. It’s the ultimate irony, how much they’ve turned things around with each other, in ways he never could’ve anticipated.

Rin takes a while to reply and Haru watches every step of his answer form in his face.

“I’ll make something up to cover for you. Too bad ‘dead grandma’ is already taken.”

They meet eyes. Rin smirks.

“Thanks.”

Rin finally retracts his arm and Haru shivers with the sudden temperature change. “How are you gonna even get there?? Nothing’s running until the morning. You DO realize that, right?”

Haru finds himself unfolding up the wall, a sudden certainty pushing him to go, go, get _out_ of here. Rin pops up after him. He’s close on Haru’s heels, almost running into him, as he yanks open the locker room door.

*

Haru isn’t exactly sure how fast he pushes the rental car as soon as he’s on the expressway. The little Honda becomes an extension of himself, his impatience, his need. He sees a curve up ahead and the car hugs it. He flies through a maze of heavy trucks clogging the way. At one point outside Kyoto he blows past a speed trap so fast he doesn’t have time to consider slowing down. But no cops come after him, and he wonders if he imagined it.

He doesn’t really think, the whole long ride. He just listens to the hum of the tires on the asphalt and the roar of the wind through his open window. He lets the expressway lights make their own visual symphony, the overheads a comforting pulse, the headlights and the petrol stations staccato bursts out of the darkness. He doesn’t feel tired. As the lights of Osaka – the last big city on his way – fade in the rearview mirror, he pushes himself to go just a little faster.

*

Haru jumps out of the rental after a half-assed parking job and starts up the stairs. He finds himself pausing at the turnoff to the Tachibanas. Their windows are all dark under the low-slung roof, of course, but he just stares up at the familiar sight for a moment.

He used to go down and up this staircase every day, sometimes countless times. And in all those times, he usually never thought to spare Makoto’s house a look.

He didn’t have to. It would be like pausing to glance at the sun. He just walked by in full certainty of what was always there for him, whenever he needed it.

He reaches the top of the hill and doesn’t waste time staring at his own house, heading right to the (open) back door. He waits in the hallway. There’s soft breathing sounds coming from the living room and a flickering glow that can only mean one thing. He creeps forward.

Makoto is fast asleep on the loveseat, his long legs sticking over the edge and one arm splayed on the floor. The TV’s on mute, and Haru watches the lights play across the shoulder of his plain white T, and down the soft curve of his relaxed bicep. He watches the subtle shadows thrown by Makoto’s upturned fingers and it looks like Makoto is beckoning him.

Haru sheds his clothes and tiptoes over. He carefully lifts Makoto’s legs and curls up underneath, resting them in his bare lap.

Makoto has… funny-looking feet. Haru knows he’s always been self-conscious about them, ever since he hit his growth spurt in middle school and they transformed to amazing, gangly specimens of human diversity. Haru suddenly remembers a day they were hanging out doing nothing in his bedroom, laying head-to-toe on his bed, probably reading manga? And Makoto was sufficiently distracted by the comic that he forgot to hide his bare feet under the blanket.

Haru had the luxury of unfettered access, memorizing how his big toes were a little bit shorter than all his other toes, mentally comparing their size to his. For some reason, he couldn’t get them right when he tried to sketch them that night. His version ended up ugly while Makoto’s feet are beautiful, in their own way. He had to throw the drawing away knowing his friend would be mortified if he saw it.

And now, in the living room that has passed from the Nanase family’s hands to his own to he and Makoto’s, Haru enjoys that luxury again, the gift of _observation_.

Makoto’s breathing is soft and deep, rushing in to fill his broad chest then gently pouring out. It’s a soothing sound that carries a promise of inevitability Haru knows is an illusion but feels real nevertheless. He isn’t even sure how Makoto is able to get enough oxygen given the awkward way his neck is cricked to the right, his face smooshed into a pillow.

Haru leans forward and gently centers his head where it should be. He rests on his elbows just gazing down for a moment, memorizing. Then he leans in, softly joining their lips, pulling just as softly up.

“Makoto,” he whispers, unnecessarily, as Makoto blinks in bleary confusion under him.

“Haru?”

Haru can’t help grinning, which he does about as often as he runs voluntarily.

“…no. It’s your friendly neighborhood burglar.”

Before Haru knows it, Makoto has pulled him close, flush against his body and wrapped in his arms. His cotton t-shirt and pajama pants make the coziest kind of friction against Haru’s bare skin. By the way Makoto raises his eyebrows, Haru can tell he’s thinking the same.

“Hmmm, Haru. Are burglars… typically naked?”

He drops his head on Makoto’s chest, slipping his hand south to Makoto’s waistband.

“Only when they break into their own houses,” he finally says, which makes no sense but he’s prepared to argue if needed. Makoto makes an “ahhh” sound of fake comprehension, which twists into a little “- oh!” as Haru dips his hand underneath.

Makoto is hot here, heavy and sleepy. He’s free of underwear and there’s plenty of room for Haru to move in the pajama bottoms.

Haru walks his fingers gently around like it’s their first time. His explorations are slow and almost selfish, relearning Makoto after so long apart. He feels a kiss in his hair, and Makoto keeps his lips there, pressed near his forehead.

Haru withdraws his hand, sitting up and smiling sheepishly at Makoto’s look of surprise. He pulls himself up to kneel on the couch.

Then he picks up where they left off, and he allows himself be completely greedy. He feasts his eyes on his Makoto, how he closes his eyes yet is comfortable enough to pant and groan, how he tenses every muscle yet somehow rests an open palm on Haru’s thigh, as if he needs the contact and wants to be sure Haru doesn’t get hurt.

He gets to watch Makoto open his beautiful eyes afterwards, happy and satisfied. Haru thinks that’s the biggest luxury of all.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I stole the title and the basic idea for this whole thing from [Roy Orbison](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=m5N9IHqqGcA). Tell me this isn’t pure MakoHaru:
> 
> _What in this world keeps us from falling apart?  
>  No matter where I go  
> I hear the beating of our one heart  
> I think about you when the night is cold and dark  
> No one can move me the way that you do  
> Nothing erases this feeling between me and you_
> 
> It was fun to try an aged-up more or less canon Haru. I think maybe he swims (draws, makes Iwa-chan keychains) for a mental check-out? A time to “do” without worrying. I dunno. 3 years of writing this dude, you think I’d have a clue!
> 
> Thanks to creepingoat for the perfect prompt. I’m so sorry you had to wait this long for your gift and I hope you enjoyed <3


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